Kaleidoscope
by Pir8grl
Summary: Leonard Snart keeps waking up in the strangest situations. And just who is that intriguing blonde?


It was the baby's squalling that woke him. That, and the fact that the…person...next to him wasn't doing anything about it. Leonard Snart blinked a couple of times, slowly bringing the dingy room into focus.

The ray of light streaming through the gap in the curtains was bright. Late morning, going on noon. The room was…wrong. On so many levels. There was a clutter of more or less empty glasses and an overflowing ashtray on the bedside table. A uniform shirt from a local retail store was thrown over a chair.

And the baby was still crying. The woman beside him didn't twitch. She was turned away from him; all he could see was a tangle of blonde hair and a flash of cheap red lingerie. There was no sign that she heard the kid, and even less that she intended to do anything about it.

Groaning slightly, Leonard hauled himself upright and swung his legs over the side of the bed. And that's when he saw it-a parolee's ankle monitor. That was just-no.

He'd never get caught-not by the cops, not by the same crappy life his father had. No. This was _**wrong**_.

* * *

It was the clatter of the guard's billy club against the bars of his cell that woke him.

"Got a visitor, Snart. Some broad."

Leonard kept his face impassive as he rolled smoothly to his feet, standing well back from the door. He knew the drill, after all.

"No rush," the guard informed him with a leer. "Boys gotta check and make sure she ain't smuggling any contraband. Might take a while."

'_Cold,'_ Leonard told himself. _ 'Ice. Cold.'_

"Don't know what a looker like that sees in a loser like you. Unless…she's a loser, too? Might have to join in the…investigation."

_'Ice,'_ Leonard repeated to himself. Mustn't bring any more down on…who? Who, exactly was here to see him? And…this wasn't Iron Heights. Where was he? And who was his mysterious visitor? There was something very, very wrong here.

* * *

He didn't know what exactly woke him. Some sixth sense, perhaps. There was someone moving in the penthouse. They were very, very good, but he was better.

He rolled silently to his feet and took a moment to arrange the pillows into the vague likeness of a sleeping Leonard Snart, then stepped back into the long spill of the window drapes.

The intruder-the woman? Yes, definitely a woman-moved with silent grace. She'd certainly have caught someone with less well developed survival instincts. She stepped up to the side of the bed and raised a wicked looking dagger. She struck true…into an expensive, down filled pillow.

She spun, and he stepped forward, catching her arm in an iron grip. She was tiny, but very strong, and it took all his focus to hold onto her.

"Who sent you?" he hissed.

Her face was masked, but bright blue eyes shone through the slit. Wait. He _**knew**_ those eyes. What the hell was going on here? This was just…wrong.

* * *

It was the baby, again. The woman beside him made a small noise, and stirred. Golden hair spilled over her pillow, and she was dressed in a soft blue cotton nightie.

The room was clean and comfortable. Maybe a little too ruffled and domesticated for his taste, but it looked like a nice place to raise kids. There was a cushioned window seat, and a rocking chair, for crying out loud. And-yeah, that was a second little voice.

"Len?" the woman murmured.

"I've got this," he replied. He sat up and swung his legs over the side. Standing up, he trod on a furry tail, eliciting an earsplitting yowl, which the babies answered in kind.

He bit back a swear. This was…it was nice, and all, but…too nice. Wrong. It wasn't him. It wasn't…_**them.**_

Now, where the hell had _**that**_ thought come from?

* * *

"Len? Len!" The voice was on the edge of panic, and a small hand was clenched onto his shoulder, shaking him.

He wasn't in a bed, this time. No, he was flat on his back, on a gym mat. The voice belonged to the rather gorgeous blonde who knelt beside him. Black leggings and a sports bra revealed quite a lot of nicely toned muscles, and fair skin dusted with pale golden freckles. Blonde hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, except for some strands that had pulled loose to frame her face.

"Len? Are you all right?"

"Peachy," he grunted.

She heaved a sigh of relief, then swatted his shoulder. "Jerk! You scared me!"

He sat up, a touch woozily. "Uh…sorry…" He looked around. A gym of some sort. Weights. Sparring weapons. It didn't look familiar, but it felt…right. Sort of.

Except that he was pretty sure the room wasn't meant to be spinning.

"Len? Stay with me…"

He wanted to. He really did. He didn't want to upset her. That was very important, for some reason…

* * *

"Dammit!" Sara Lance swore. "We almost had him!"

Beside her, Cisco Ramon collapsed to the ground at the edge of the wreckage of the Oculus Wellspring, breathing heavily.

"How much longer can they keep this up?" John Constantine wondered.

"I don't know," Caitlin Snow replied, checking her tablet. "I don't like their vitals-either of them."

Nodding, Constantine stepped in, offering Sara a hand up. He clearly saw the wish to refuse his aid in her eyes, but trembling muscles won out, and she accepted his help with a scowl.

"I think it's time for a breather, love," he said mildly.

"No! We almost had him!"

"Sara, you've almost had him at least five times. Now, your boyo there needs a break, and you're not far behind him."

"We're so close!"

"I know, love. But you're gonna kill yourself. What would your Leonard think if he finds himself back here, only you've thrown so much of your energy into bringing him back that you didn't keep enough to keep your own heart beating. Hmm? How would we explain that to him?"

* * *

Two sharp tugs on the safety line got Leonard's attention. How could he have let his mind wander at a time like this? That was completely out of character. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs and hauled his partner up through the skylight. She was tiny, but muscular… and yes, he knew better than to remark on that.

She was grinning with the adrenaline rush of a successful heist, gorgeous with her sparkling blue eyes and wisps of golden hair that had escaped from her black watch cap.

He grabbed her hand, and they crept quickly across the rooftops, dropping down into an alley several buildings away. Mick was waiting for them with the van's engine already running. They climbed into the back, and he pulled away, driving slowly and carefully, so as not to attract any unwanted attention.

Laughing, she curled a hand into Len's jacket, dragging him close for a kiss that was wickedly hot, and yet, somehow…_**wrong**_. This whole thing was wrong. She'd never been a thief, and he wasn't…not anymore. What the hell was going on?

* * *

He blinked.

"Len? Len, what's wrong? Are you hit?" The tiny blonde in white leather eyed him with concern, even as she fended off assailants with her staff.

Good question. _**Damn**_good question. He'd zoned out in the middle of a fire fight. He shook his head irritably and moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with the mystery woman.

Only…he had the strangest sense that she shouldn't be a mystery. All he knew, as he took aim past her with his cold gun, was that she was important. What they were doing was important. He just couldn't remember _**why.**_

* * *

Len didn't know what woke him. His rather finely honed senses catalogued an exceptionally good quality mattress, and down-filled comforter and pillows. He blinked his eyes open, studying the room silently. It was decorated in shades of silvery gray, accented with midnight blue. It was cool and crisp and uncluttered. He liked it.

He had an impression of warmth beside him, and turned his head to investigate. There was a woman lying next to him, her head propped up on one hand. Blonde hair, fair skin dusted with pale golden freckles, and bright blue eyes. She smiled when he looked at her, but there were fine lines of barely contained pain in her expression.

"I thought you'd never wake up."

He wasn't entirely sure how to answer that, especially given that he had no clue who she really was. She was familiar, certainly…in more ways than one. She was leaning well and truly into his personal space, something he'd normally object to quite vehemently.

She shifted even closer and laid a hand on his chest. "Len, I need you to focus on me. Can you do that? It's important."

Focus on the beautiful woman in his bed? Yes, he supposed he could do that. Her hand was warm against his chest, and while he wasn't normally tolerant of casual contact, he found himself reaching up and covering it with his own.

She smiled and turned her hand so their fingers intertwined. "Good. I need you to stay awake, and stay focused on me. We need to go."

"Go where?"

"Home," she told him, squeezing his fingers.

He glanced around doubtfully. It was nice here…

As if she could sense his thoughts, she added, "I swear to god, we can decorate your room on the ship just like this if you want, but we need to _**go**_, right now!"

There was a thread of pain in her voice, and Leonard didn't like that. He wasn't one to fall for a pretty face, not since…well, the name eluded him, but he knew it was important. Life-changing, even. But he shouldn't be hearing pain in this woman's voice. Wise cracks, maybe. Flirting and banter.

_**Wait.**_ Where the hell did _**that**_ come from?

"Do I know you?"

"You do. And I need you to trust me, and come with me, before we lose you again."

She tugged on his hand, and he noticed a wide silver ring that she wore. It tickled at the edges of his memory.

She tracked his gaze. "Mick gave it to me, after…well, after."

"After what?"

"After we lost you! Leonard, _**please!**_ It took us so long to locate you, and I'm not sure how long Cisco can hold this. I need you to believe in me…and you…"

Leonard looked away for a moment, as if trying to gather his thoughts. He turned his head sharply to meet her gaze. "And me and you?"

_**"Yes." **_

He frowned. "What do we do?"

Sara slid out of bed and tugged on his hand. "Come with me. Don't let go."

"I won't," he promised.

He allowed himself to be led to the door of the room, then, acting on an impulse he didn't entirely understand, he pulled on her hand and pulled her close. He leaned down and kissed her fiercely.

After a moment, she stepped back, flushed and grinning. "Hold that thought."

She reached out and turned the doorknob. There was a wash of blue light…just like…like…

* * *

It was the quiet beep of medical equipment that woke him this time. Leonard blinked his eyes open slowly in the dim lighting. He knew this place.

"Welcome home, Mr. Snart," a quiet voice intoned.

_Gideon,_ his brain supplied. The reason for her subdued tone became apparent as he glanced around the room. There was a young man with long, dark hair asleep on one of the other reclined chairs. He had an arm flung over his face. _ Cisco,_ he remembered with mild surprise. He had a recollection that the young…engineer? Something like that, anyway, didn't much care for him.

As he continued to take stock of his surroundings, Leonard realized that someone was holding his hand in a firm grip. Someone dressed in white leather, with a spill of beautiful golden hair. She was asleep in a conventional chair that had been dragged beside the fancy medical recliner he was situated in. _Sara. _

He squeezed her hand. Bright blue eyes blinked open, and she smiled at him.

"Hey."

He swallowed hard. "Are you…" His voice trailed off, and he tried again. "Is this…"

She shifted forward to perch on the edge of his chair, without letting go of his hand. "It's real, Len. You're home."

It seemed real. It seemed _**right**_…but then, so had some of the others.

"Prove it," he whispered.

She thought for a moment, her thumb stroking over his knuckles. "At the Vanishing Point, we hid from the Time Masters in a crawl space under the bridge. It was so cramped-I kept trying to move, to give you your space, and…"

"And there were footsteps…"

Sara nodded. "And you…"

He'd wrapped his arms around her, cradling her to his chest. True, it had served the practical purpose of holding her still, so that their presence couldn't be detected, and Leonard was nothing if not practical. But if he'd felt the least bit of resistance, he'd have let her go the moment the footsteps faded away down the corridor. But…well, it sounded corny as hell to say that she'd melted into his embrace, but that's what it had felt like to him.

And actually, that's what it felt like now, he realized. Sara eased herself farther onto the reclining medical chair, pressing into Leonard's side, and laying her head on his chest. He brought his arms up around her, partially to steady her on the chair that was most definitely not built for two, but mostly to revel in the solid warmth of her presence.

"I'm really home," he murmured, breath ruffling her hair.

"Yeah…you are."


End file.
